Pinkie Swear
by northstar333
Summary: She follows him willingingly, blind to or perhaps uncaring of what he is. Her generous love is matched by a reluctant attachment of his own. As a youkai of few words, his actions speak for themselves. Collection of platonic S/R oneshots/drabbles. G-PG13
1. Ribbon

Disclaimer: The characters of InuYasha are not mine, they are property of Rumiko Takahashi, Shogakukan, Yomiuri TV, Sunrise, and Viz. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. No copyright infringement is intended. This was written with the sole intent of the reader's satisfaction and the author's own personal satisfaction.

Warnings…..wait a minute…this one's rated G, no warnings needed except for extreme cuteness and some waff…

A/N I find myself surrounded by plot bunnies lately. This one was incredibly cute and adorable I couldn't ignore it. I'm just a sucker for a Sesshoumaru that tries so hard to delude himself into thinking he doesn't care.

# Ribbon #

Sesshoumaru looked down on the seaside port town, grimacing as the shifting direction of the wind brought the scent of rotting fish, unwashed bodies, and raw sewage to his nose. The diluted scent of the village was enough to drive any sane youkai far from here; but he was here for a purpose and until he accomplished it, it would take more than just a strong stench to dissuade him from his task. His resolve, however, was not enough to keep him from thinking derogatory thoughts about humankind, youkai who made their home among them in general, and the single youkai whose home was in this town in specific that he'd come to see.

Without making any effort to disguise himself, he strode purposefully into the small town, passing by gap-mouthed fisherman, their sturdy, stinking wives, and numerous, squalling brats. Covering his intense dislike and acute discomfort at being this close to so many humans with a false nonchalant façade, he stepped off the main dirt road and wound his way through some questionable back alleys to reach the stoop of a dingy little shop front. He opened the door for himself, sacrificing his dignity to the practicality of knowing that if he did not do it himself he would be left standing outside the door indefinitely. Irate to the point of already being in a foul mood, Sesshoumaru eyed the cheerful little bell that chimed to announce his entrance with the single minded determination of someone who is deciding _which_ unfortunate thing—be it person or object—will be the scapegoat of his temper.

With a smile that was dazzling and eyes that glowed with petty satisfaction, Sesshoumaru crushed the bell completely in his fist, feeling immeasurably better all of a sudden. He turned towards the owner of the shop, his keen edged smile still in place.

"What may I hel—YOU!" the crab youkai screeched. "OUT! _OUT!!"_

"I seek a ribbon," he stated bluntly and blandly, ignoring the crab youkai's outraged protests.

That stopped the sea witch up short. The old hag blinked her slightly bulbous eyes at him owlishly. Having tangled with Sesshoumaru's father—because she was harvesting human parts from _living_ humans to make her charms—and summarily losing to the point that she was under a geas set by his father to never do it again, it was understandable that the sea witch hated all inu youkai. It was also understandable that she treated all of them with caution, Sesshoumaru especially.

However, that did not include hospitality when on her own turf. Having entered her dwelling willingly, Sesshoumaru had made himself vulnerable to the charm set across the threshold. Any harm he did to her would come back to him threefold—not that it would keep her safe though.

"A ribbon. A _ribbon?_ Why in the mother sea's vast stretches do you need a _ribbon?"_ the sea witch jabbered, her incredulous sarcasm thickening in her voice with each word.

Sesshoumaru's foul temper returned. Reaching down, he closed his hand on Toukijin's hilt and let the sword release its menacing jyaki into the air.

_"Do not question me,"_ he warned in a voice that was close to a growl. "You will give me a hair ribbon, of _quality_ silk, that wards off nightmares."

The sea witch was speechless for a few moments, her large cheeks inflating and deflating furtively like a bellow. Her large round eyes were wide as they bulged in comical disbelief. Sesshoumaru stood in stiff, tense, uncomfortable silence, waiting for her to regain her composure.

Her eyes narrowed and she pinned him with a hard stare.

"Don't think you can just waltz in here and demand that I _give_ you anything, you gangly _pup._ I may have lost to your father but you've got eons to go before _you_ become a proper threat to _me!"_

Sesshoumaru's entire body went still as every muscle within him clenched in outrage at her insult. His temper burned hot and his grip on Toukijin's hilt tightened until his knuckles turned white. The corner of his vision clouded with red and he struggled grimly to remain impassive.

"I did not come here with the intent of exchanging insults with _rabble._ I have brought four complete scales—plucked, not shed—from the dragon Ryūkotsusei for trade. I believe they are more than adequate payment for a _ribbon,"_ Sesshoumaru finished in a low, tight voice; every word of his dripping with ill concealed menace.

The change in the sea witch's demeanor was instantaneous. Plucked scales came with minute traces of dragon's blood on the root—and to gain both four scales and the traces of blood on them was enough to make her salivate. He knew and she knew what kind of powerful charms she could make out of the scales and the atrocious prices she could charge for such charms.

Incredibly, she was suddenly all smiles, bustling around her dusty, dirty, cramped quarters as she rooted around for what he requested. After some moments she straightened with a triumphant cackle, holding a packet of water stained rice paper in her hand.

Flushed with enthusiasm, she approached him quite flippantly; then with an abrupt start and scowl, checked her head long rush. She eyed him, as if it was his fault she'd forgotten he was a potential threat, and then stepped behind her counter and spread the rice paper out so that he could see the neatly folded, sunshine yellow, ribbon inside.

Immediately and with authoritative assumption, Sesshoumaru reached out to pick it up and ascertain that it was indeed what she said it was. When she defensively snatched it away from his fingers, his cold amber eyes flashed dangerously, but he held his peace.

_"I_ don't think so," she scolded him. "I want to see the scales first."

He watched her, deliberately pausing so that she could see the deadly intent in his eyes, then lowered his lashes and withdrew the folded silk bundle from within his kimono. Placing the silk on the counter with a dainty, graceful movement, he withdrew his hand, making sure not to brush his skin against hers as she eagerly reached out to unfold the silk. As the last corner fell away and the scales within were revealed, the sea witch gave a small gasp, her entire attention riveted on the sight before her.

Sesshoumaru gathered up the ribbon, leaving the rice paper, and tucked it into his kimono. Dismissing the sea witch from his thoughts as effectively as he turned his back on her, he exited the small shop.

Sesshoumaru returned to his companions that night, saying nothing of where he'd been. Another day passed; filled with Rin's chatter and Jaken's complaints, and he lead the party on a leisurely pace, retiring early for night in a forest glade that held a small spring. That night he listened to the sound of Rin's whimpers and endured the scent of her tears as she spent yet another sleeping period in the grips of her night terrors. He watched her rise, cold and shivering with her own sweat chilling on her skin, to go bathe and fish for her breakfast. He watched her smile brightly and pick flowers and chatter incessantly at Jaken all through the daylight hours. He watched her cheer vanish as darkness fell and she tried to sleep.

He endured it for three more nights. He decided he was _done_ waiting for her to discover where he'd tucked the ribbon away in Aun's saddle bags. As Rin and Jaken finished the food they had cooked by the campfire and were settling in to rest for the night, he spoke up.

"Rin, there is a blanket in Aun's saddle bags. Use it tonight," he stated, his words an obvious command. His gaze never left the small girl's form as he watched her struggle to pull the blanket out with keen interest. A few seconds later, his patience was rewarded as Rin's face lit up with delight.

"Ah! Jaken-sama, look! Rin found a ribbon!" she called out happily, waving the yellow silk ribbon under the toad demon's nose. She did a little dance around the befuddled Jaken, humming sweetly to herself.

Jaken crossed his arms, the staff of heads cradled in the crook of one arm, and eyed the bundle with a suspicious, disbelieving gaze.

"Rin, if you found it in Aun's saddle bags, then that belongs to Sesshoumaru-sama," he cautioned warily.

Immediately Rin's exuberance dimmed, and she turned large, questioning dark eyes to meet Sesshoumaru's direct stare. Caught in the act of observing her, he hastily looked away, belatedly remembering to feign disinterest.

"Does this belong to you, Sesshoumaru-sama?" she asked innocently, her entire face hopeful.

"I, Sesshoumaru, have no need for such a thing," he replied a little too bluntly, knowing that she would assume ownership of the ribbon if he said he didn't need it. His gaze strayed until he could see her face out of the corner of his eye. He saw the way her face instantly relit with its cheerful enthusiasm and her bright, warm smile.

Satisfaction unfurled in the inu youkai's being—satisfaction that was only caused by having rid himself of the irritation of her nightly noises, he assured himself.

Still, his attention was caught and held by Rin as she badgered Jaken into tying the ribbon onto her side ponytail.

More prancing and twirling of the ends of the ribbon ensued before Rin finally settled down to go to sleep.

Sesshoumaru sat leaning against a tree, his eyes fastened on the dying embers of the campfire. When the last glow faded, and Jaken and Rin were both deeply asleep, he rose and strode over to Rin's sleeping form. Kneeling, he allowed himself to bury his claws in her dark hair and lift the silken strands of her hair and the ribbon so that they trailed through his fingers as they fell.

"Sleep in peace, little one," he whispered, his gold eyes shining gently in the moonlight and a soft smile turning up the corners of his mouth ever so slightly.


	2. Breathe

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

# Breathe #

"Breathe for me Rin! _Breathe!_ Don't give up; focus on my eyes, my face. Good girl," Sesshoumaru urged in a tight, controlled tone.

The deep brown eyes of the little girl he'd saved by chance were once again clouding over with death's touch.

"Rin is…a good girl?" she asked haltingly, fighting desperately to remain by his side, to remain in the ruined confines of her small body.

"You have always been a good girl," he told her gently, cradling her body against his, uncaring that her red blood was staining his white silk clothing.

"Rin—" she started, but a wet cough tore her next words to shreds as she choked on the blood pooling in her lungs.

"Do not try to talk. Just breathe. Continue to breathe, to _live!_ We are almost to the healer's—"

"Sesshoumaru-sama?" she interrupted him as if to say something important, but her eyes were unfocused and she was looking beyond his shoulder as if she saw something or someone standing there that she recognized.

Her next word tore his heart to shreds.

"Mama?" Rin called softly to the person he could not see. Then louder, "Mama!"

The sense of Rin's _presence_ within her body faded alarmingly as the little girl reached out to the ones waiting for her on the other side.

"_Mama!"_ Rin exhaled with relief and joy, her voice so full of tender love that immediately Sesshoumaru's insides twisted viciously with jealousy.

She has never called _his_ name that way.

The little girl began to struggle feebly in his arms, her soul struggling to free itself of its heavy fleshy bonds. Tightening his grip on Rin, he reached over and touched the hilt of Tessaiga, looking up to behold the sight of a transparent Rin burying her face in her mother's skirt as the woman's spirit and Rin's clung to each other. Surrounding the pair was what seemed to be the father, a male sibling, and a plethora of other relatives.

And on each and every face was the same rapturous joy that illuminated Rin's.

"_Welcome home,"_ they whispered seductively to the little girl's spirit, reaching out to warm her with their touch, to comfort her as Rin wept with the sheer enormity of her emotions.

Anguish curled through his insides at the thought of losing her. Selfishness crept through his being like a cancerous rot; and he found himself unable to simply let her go; even if it was to the family who deserved to be with her more than he ever would.

Clenching his teeth so hard a muscle in his jaw twitched, he turned his face in towards Rin's, pressing his warm cheek against her cool one.

"_You promised!"_ he forced out through gritted teeth. _"You promised me forever, Rin!"_

He bowed his head to hide the pain in his expression, burrowing his nose into the fading fragrance of her hair.

"_Don't leave me…"_ he pleaded, beyond caring that he was showing weakness.

A phantom touch brushed across his hair, and he looked up, startled. Her serious dark eyes regarded him with somber dignity as her spirit stood eye to eye with him. In the background, the voices of her loved ones called to her, but she ignored them, peering deep into his soul.

She smiled at him the same way she had at their first encounter, not so long ago.

"Good bye," she whispered without taking her eyes from his; but her words were not for him.

The sense of the other spirits faded until she was all he could see. Beneath his hand, Tensaiga gave a throbbing pulse, and suddenly he knew that she was waiting for him to call her back, to anchor her to _this_ world before the next one snatched her away.

"_Rin,"_ he said her name with all the authority he could muster. _"Breathe!"_

She did.

Coughing up blood and sputtering, her limp body came alive as the spirit of Rin re-inhabited it. Immediately, her bright dark eyes clouded over with the terrible pain, her face skewing up in a grimace. She whimpered softly as he jostled her slightly.

"Stay with me," he implored her. "We're almost there."

"Ah!" she cried as he landed roughly, sacrificing grace for speed.

"Rin…" he said disbelievingly, glimpsing the real depth of her wound for the first time.

_Impossible! She shouldn't be alive; but she was. Enduring the pain because he'd called her back._

_Rin._

He let the hanyou healer take Rin from him, surrendering the little girl to the gentle giant's expert care. Normally, any association with a hanyou would have made him sneer in arrogant superiority, but this time he was the one helpless to save Rin, and the hanyou was the one who could.

He swallowed his pride and entered the dwelling of the hanyou and his human mother.

Tucking himself out of the way in the corner, he watched with avid eyes as the hanyou smeared Rin's wounds with a dark, foul smelling grease, then set the mixture on fire, cauterizing the wounds.

His fingers flexed with the urge to rip the hanyou apart as Rin's anguished screams filled the air. He had to remind himself that the hanyou _did_ know what he was doing.

He could not bear Rin's pain for her. But he could watch; watch and remember that a small, human, girl child—someone he had always considered weak—was actually strong enough to continue living by a sheer act of will alone. Who was fighting, even now, to remain here when her loved ones were all gone because he had asked it of her.

Rin's recovery was slow. Her mobility and movement were limited by the stitching that held the long ugly wound along her side closed.

For several days after the hanyou had declared her fit to travel, Rin would tire easily and be content to ride Ahun rather than frolic about collecting flowers and wild edibles.

Every day, Sesshoumaru brought her food to eat when she was hungry. Every day, he made sure there was a roof over her head, a soft, warm place for her to sleep. Every day, he noted the slow and steady process of her healing.

He even paid for her to bathe in a public bath house so that, with assistance, she could be _clean._

One day, she paused, looked him square in the eye, and spoke with all the irritation and frustration a stifled little girl can feel.

"Rin's _tired_ of human villages! _Rin's_ going to hunt lizards and mushrooms in the forest."

"No," he responded immediately. "You need food and shelter and clean clothing. You're too small to be wandering the woods alone."

She _stamped_ her small foot, glared back at him, and _argued_ with him.

"Rin can take care of herself!"

"No you can't," he countered, striving for logic and patience. All he could see, all he could picture, was her lying in her own pool of blood, left for dead by one of the forest youkai. "Don't you remember how _close_ you came to _dying?"_

"But that was forever an' ever ago! Rin wants to go play _now!"_

"_No!"_ he commanded her, a slight tinge of panic to his voice.

"_Why?_ Rin's always goes and plays by herself!"

"Because the forest is dangerous. I forbid you to go."

"Rin's not afraid," she protested with confidence.

"You should be," he corrected her harshly.

"No! Rin's not afraid! You always come and rescue Rin!"

"I won't always be there to rescue you, Rin," he tried to explain, tried to make her understand _why_ without having to admit that he worried about her.

She shrugged as if his argument was nothing. "Sesshoumaru-sama _always_ comes," she stared fervently.

He resisted the strong urge to growl and roar. He strived for a calm façade.

"Rin, don't you remember how much it hurt? How much pain and blood there was? That happened because I didn't get there in time. Don't you understand?"

"Sesshoumaru-sama came," she shot back with childish simplicity. "Rin calls your name and you always come."

"Rin…you almost died…almost left this world—"

"You called me back," she interrupted. "Rin didn't leave."

"This once—"

"Sesshoumaru-sama," she said his name reprovingly. She continued, talking loud and slow, as if that would make him understand. "Rin calls 'Sesshoumaru-sama!' and Sesshoumaru-sama comes. When you call 'Rin!' then Rin comes."

He stared down at her, his frown deep and serious. "It's not that simple, Rin."

She sighed and threw up her hands like her mother used to do when her brother was being stubborn.

"There will come a time when you won't be able to answer, Rin—" he started through gritted teeth, his irritation and anxiety over her safety finally wearing down his self control.

"Rin will always answer. Rin promised."

"_Rin—"_

"Rin _promised. Rin. Will. Always. Come."_

"You can't be sure—"

Rin sighed again, as if she truly had expected better from him.

"Rin is sure," she told him patiently.

He looked down at her, at the determination shining in those deep brown eyes, and remembered watching her fight to stay with him as the healer tried to patch enough of her body together again to keep her alive.

Rationally, he knew that there was no way a small child like her could make such a guarantee. But he had seen her strength; her unyielding will; and despite himself, he instinctively trusted her to keep her word.

He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He locked the clamoring of his worry behind the iron wall of his will. Then he listened, very quietly, to the whisper of his heart.

"Do you promise?" Sesshoumaru asked her, his own expression grave, his body tensed for her answer. "Do you promise never to leave me?"

"Yes."

Her response came instantly, easily. She smiled up at him with obvious affection. Then she reached out, tentatively, and offered him her hand. He was still for a moment longer; his tall form easing as the tension slowly left his body. Then, with hesitant fingers, he encircled her hand with his.


	3. His

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

# His #

She plays with the other children, caught up in the innocent revelry of games and fun. Here, there is no pain, no sorrow, no suffering. Here, there is no anger, no abuse, no neglect. Here, there is only the simple joy of child's play.

In the Elysian Fields, there is paradise for innocent souls.

And she is among the most pure, the most courageous, the most loyal. She is treasured by all as a bringer of joy, even in this place of bliss. For her sweet smile, the greatest poets and musicians of the ages all try their hand at charming her into gifting them with one.

All who see her are enamored of her. Even among the demons, the great dog Kerberos lays his heads in her lap and listens to her songs. Not a devil exists that she cannot convince to wear her flower crowns; not an Enlightened one passes by without patting her fondly on the head.

Among the masses, she is the brightest star, the sweetest soul.

He comes for her. Calls her by name.

To them, he is merely an upstart little pup from a tiny island in the Pacific. His bloodline, once noteworthy, is scoffed at as impure; tainted by the mixing of human and youkai blood.

He is sneered at. Looked down upon. Insulted.

They dare not forbid him though, or they risk _her_ displeasure. Even the least among them is allowed to come to her in adoration.

But he comes with arrogance, with demand, with possession. Even among the greatest gathered, he shows no fear, no diffidence.

"Rin."

She rises and turns to him; their beloved little girl.

She smiles…but it is not the smile she has ever shown _them_ before.

It is _his_ smile, his and his alone.

He turns and leaves, without showing so much as a flicker of an eyelash to acknowledge the gift of her smile. With grace and a rare happiness they have never seen in her before, she rises and follows him.

Without a backward glance, she exits the gates of hell.

They are left with emptiness and wonder. With dawning clarity, they realize that she was never theirs.

She was always _his._


	4. Secret of the Fang Tessaiga

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Warning: Character death

# The Secret of the Fang Tessaiga #

_Blood._

The smell of blood was everywhere; but the only scent he cared about was strangely missing. One by one, he identified the separate strands of individuals: the slayer, the monk, his brother's woman, the little kitsune. The foul smell of Jaken and the grating musk of his brother's sweat lingered in the air…but no sharp, clean fragrance of evergreen and spring rain greeted his nose.

_Where was she?!_

Wounded and bleeding, he limped through the battle field, searching the faces of corpses and praying he wouldn't find the one he sought among them. The wolf, the fire cat, and the strange one, the brother of the slayer, were among the ones he found, but not her.

_Rin._

In the distance, the sounds of furious fighting still going on reached his ears, but he cared not. In his current state, he was more of a hindrance than a help to his brother. Even he, in all his youkai pride, knew to get out of the way of a grief crazed hanyou whose youkai blood was awakened.

He came to stand over the still, cooling corpse of the woman his brother had favored. Droplets of his blood fell across the miko's pale face and onto the battered blade of Tessaiga. For a moment, he was lost in memory, remembering how the fang had rejected Inuyasha upon the eve of the woman's death. Frustrated and furious, Inuyasha had thrown the useless blade down and gone after Naraku with his bare hands.

Curiously, he felt no petty satisfaction at the fact that the blade was no longer Inuyasha's. All he felt was tired; tired and desperate.

_Rin._

A small whiff of her scent teased his nose, and he stilled as he carefully looked around him, wondering privately if he had imagined the smell. A gentle heartbeat registered after a moment of intent listening, and with growing urgency, Sesshoumaru focused on locating the source of the sound.

_There._

Curled up in a ball underneath the protective shield of the woman—Kagome's—body was an unconscious, but very much alive Rin. Relief flooded his system as he rolled the woman off of Rin and cradled the little girl against him.

_Precious._

His little girl was worth more than any empty victory he might achieve by defeating Naraku. Let Inuyasha—who had now thrice lost his love to Naraku—have the cold comfort of revenge. _His_ treasure, Rin's smile, was safe.

_What do you protect?_

With a demanding throb, Tessaiga pulsed beside him, catching and holding his attention. When he failed to reach out and take the hilt, Tessaiga impatiently pulsed again. Sesshoumaru stared at it a moment, the irony not lost on him that now, of all times, Tessaiga was offering itself up to _him._ With dawning realization, his gaze fell to the dirt smudged face of Rin.

_Was it really that simple?_

With tentative fingers, he reached out and gripped the sword's handle, startling when Tessaiga practically leapt into his hand. No angry sizzle of its barrier greeted him; instead, the blade transformed as if eager to please its new master. With an energizing hum, Tessaiga's power thrummed through his being. Disbelievingly, Sesshoumaru hefted the blade, testing its weight in his hand.

_The vow to protect._

_That_ was the secret of his father's fang?!

He looked to where his brother fought full out; heavily damaging Naraku without making any real progress towards dispatching the enemy. His brother had lost that which he wished to protect…and had thrown away Tessaiga in order to embrace the chaos of his youkai ancestry. _He_ had finally humbled himself enough to admit he _needed_ a human, forsaking his youkai pride, and found the power he needed to protect that which was so very precious.

_Rin._


	5. Unseen

Disclaimer: The characters of InuYasha are not mine, they are property of Rumiko Takahashi, Shogakukan, Yomiuri TV, Sunrise, and Viz. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. No copyright infringement is intended. This was written with the sole intent of the reader's satisfaction and the author's own personal satisfaction.

# Unseen #

The fire burns low and gentle in the late night, the hiss and sputter of its dying embers a murmur of peaceful discontent amid the soft sounds of the night creatures. In the blanketing darkness, the slightest whimper from her goes unheard save by one.

The shifting shadows of the dancing flames almost conceal the movement of a cruel, clawed, sword callused hand. They almost hide the way delicate little fingers curl trustingly into that offered embrace.

The spoken sound of a name blends into the spontaneous pops of the burning timber. The silent whoosh of an exhaled breath goes unnoticed except for the dark strands of hair it disturbs.

Amid the symphony of the night, the small sigh of a contented child goes unnoticed save by one. The flickering, faltering light of the campfire flares and dies, illuminating for a moment the slight smile and gentle eyes of a cold, beautiful, inhuman face.


	6. Bound

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

# Bound #

Unfettered and free, he has always done as he pleased. The only direction in his life has been one of his choosing. The only purpose he's ever embraced has been his own.

Now, one handed and humbled by his hanyou brother, he is more aware of his own mortality. He has learned that more than his own will exists within the sphere of his world.

He has realized, belatedly, what it is to be alone. He has come to understand that others exist beyond his self, others that do not fit into his tidy little compartmentalization of those who interest him and those who do not.

_Rin._

With the lingering warmth brought by the remembrance of a smile, he found the motivation to act for a reason other than his own selfish gains. Tensaiga's selfless preservation of his life begot mercy for an orphan human girl. One who did not have the good sense to flee from him in terror when she could. One who looked to him for affirmation, for protection, for companionship. One who looked to him with trust, affection, joy.

One little girl; who with her unshakable belief in him restored his confidence in himself.

He accepted the service of the little green imp, not caring whether the creature lived or died. From those lips he heard the most outlandish praise, the most absurd boasts…and once he believed them true. That no matter the exaggeration, he resembled them more closely than not.

It wasn't until the humility of having his half blood brother _maim_ him that he understood the bitter, sharp folly of pride. And it wasn't until an _orphan; _a _starving, gaunt faced_ little girl thought to offer him a meal when her own stomach was empty that he stopped railing at the _unfairness_ of his fate.

If she, poor unfortunate mortal, could _smile _despite her fate, then far be it for _him,_ a powerful inu taiyoukai, to bear his own misfortune with less grace. With one less hand, he was still himself in all his glory.

He still had one hand to draw his swords. One hand to strike out and kill his enemies.

_One hand to reach out and grasp the little fingers that reached for his._


	7. Winter Heart

Disclaimer: The characters of InuYasha are not mine, they are property of Rumiko Takahashi, Shogakukan, Yomiuri TV, Sunrise, and Viz. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. No copyright infringement is intended. This was written with the sole intent of the reader's satisfaction and the author's own personal satisfaction.

# Winter Heart #

The enemies gather, as the Lord of the Western Lands is brought low.

No mighty blow has felled him; no blade has kissed his blood, no arrow has pierced his armor, no fist has darkened his perfect skin.

Two tiny hands hold what is left of his heart.

Two still, eerily quiet, unmoving hands that belong to a pale, silent, breathless corpse. Wisps of pretty, silky soft fly away hair catch and cradle the weight of tears like priceless jewels. Expensive fabric shreds under the slash of impotent claws as an unearthly, keening howl of anguish spills from an inhuman throat.

There is an answer from the thronging hoard as they mock what they cannot understand. The harsh clang of blade against shield and the sharp clamor of raised, angry voices drown out the hushed whimpers of his sobs.

There is blood on his hands. _Her_ blood.

Among the stench of the gathered, _her_ scent is the only one that matters. Softly, gently, like the drifting petals of a white magnolia tree, small and exquisite snowflakes begin to fall. The crisp, clean shock of frost purifies the air until a delicate, ephemeral shroud of white obscures her face.

He stands and the crowd falls back a step with wary distrust. He lifts the small, still form into his arms without so much as the slightest touch on his sword hilts. Stiff and awkward, stilted and with exaggerated care, he puts one foot in front of the other until he stands abreast of the boldest of his foes.

"Vermin lover!" a tall ogre chortles as he spits at the Lord's feet.

He silences it with a look. For a long moment the ogre locks eyes with him, then suddenly, inexplicably, falls over dead. The rest of the brood mutely yields ground as he carries his beloved away.

Deep into the wildest, coldest mountains of the North he bears her until he comes to the doorstep of his father's oldest friend. His orders to his vassal are peculiar; but elemental does as his master wishes. Whispering sweet chants into the child's ear, he enfolds her within his frozen embrace, sealing her away from rot or decay.

Rosy cheeked, peaceful faced, the girl slumbers behind a wall of untouchable ice. For the very, very few unfortunates who dare to venture as far as to look upon her, they see a small maiden in repose, her hands cupping something dark and precious against her breast.

His heart.

Where once the Lord of the West lived under the veil of his father's legacy, there is no talk of his sire left on the lips of his dead enemies. There is no mocking, foolhardy youths left to challenge his birthright; only a peaceful field of many graves.

Cold, ethereal, as unshakeable as eternal winter, the Lord of the Western Lands waits, secure in his power, for the elusive, ephemeral thaw of Spring.


	8. Coming Home

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Week/Prompt: Week 1: Cold Comfort

Word Count: 250

Rating: PG

Summary: At the end of Sesshoumaru's wanderings, he returns to where his heart is.  
Warnings/Author's Note: Character death. Written for mfsanctuary on LJ.

Coming Home

She sits in the cold alone, playing with the snow. Her little body shivers, her fingers are clumsy as she carefully packs and smoothes until a form takes shape under her industrial hands. Sweet and beguiling, perfect in its entirety, the snow puppy sits looking up at her with adoring eyes. She sings to it a wordless humming of a lullaby as she pats it delicately on the head.

For a long, long time, he watches her.

Her actions become more and more lethargic; her head droops as her hands turn blue and her misty breath comes slower and slower. Her head turns, and she looks at him for the first time.

"_Sesshoumaru-sama,"_ her lips form the words and the wind sighs his name.

Matted snow falls from his shaggy coat as he squeezes between two pine trees to stand before a tiny, weathered grave marker. His frailty is such that he can easily fold the great length of his true form into the small clearing, his ragged tail tucked neatly over his nose as he lies down in a circle around her.

"Sesshoumaru-sama!" she says with more vigor, struggling to her feet as she runs over to bury her face in the bristly, steely grey of his fur.

His canine _whuff_ is an affectionate, tired greeting as he patiently endures her clamoring until she is snugly tucked under his chin. The small, hard warmth of her body soothes him, and his last breath comes out as a contented sigh.


	9. Don't Touch, Rin

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Week/Prompt:** Week 3/When love is not madness, it is not love.  
**Word Count:** 350  
**Rating:** G  
**Summary:** She has always been told do not touch...  
**Warnings/Author's Note:** Rin-centric. Written for mfsanctuary on LJ

Don't Touch, Rin

She is a late born child, a not wholy welcome surprise to her elderly parents. On little legs she follows after her brother as he works the fields; a jagged scar marring her temple where she got too close and he clipped her with his hoe.

_Don't touch, Rin._

She is left hidden in the crawl space beneath the floor of their hut as the bandits strike. Covered in the ashes of her home, the few remaining survivors mistake her for a ghost and drive her away from the graves of her parents and brother.

_Don't touch, Rin._

Rosy- and round-cheeked, the village children invite her to play with them. With lying smiles and sly cruelty, they mock her for her lack of family, for her shabby clothes and her decrepit old hut.

_Don't touch, Rin._

She finds a wounded youkai in the forest, which growls and bares its teeth at her. The beautiful monster turns up its nose at her offerings, and so she steals for it, enduring punishment without complaint when she is caught.

_Don't touch, Rin._

The wolves tear the village apart; and no one is concerned enough to spare a moment to search for the waif they took in. No one is there to defend her, to mourn her when she dies alone; torn apart by teeth and fang.

_Don't touch, Rin._

Sunshine through her eyelids. The feel of being in someone's lap, warm and sheltering. The touch of tentative fingers, brushing her shaggy hair out of her eyes.

_Don't touch, Rin._

Gold eyes greet her with surprise. He is gentle as he sets her on her feet and even though he says nothing to her, she follows him with full knowledge of who and what he is.

_Don't touch, Rin._

He is untouchable; a forbidden thing. She cares not. Her smile for him never loses its brightness, despite the passage of years. She loves him freely and affectionately without restraint. His sharp edges wound her each time she draws close; yet she is not deterred by it.

_Because she has never learned not to touch._


	10. Lady Kyuubi

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Week/Prompt:** Week 7 / Sugar and Spice

**Word Count: **500

**Rating:** G

**Summary:** She loves the taste of little girls...

**Warnings/Author's Note:** Quirky bit of fun.

# Lady Kyuubi #

He should have suspected something as soon as the scent of kitsune hit his nose. He should have recognized the danger, not to himself or the other youkai of his group, but to Rin as the lights of the inn came into view.

With her fertile imagination, they would be unable to resist her.

Fragrant flowers tempted her away from him, hiding her scent as he searched for her in the dark. Jaken and Ahun proved useless, fast asleep due to the effects of the blossoms. Frustrated, anxious, furious that they dare touch what was his, he fought his way through layers of illusion and fog.

The sound of Rin's laughter drew him, like a small light in the dark.

He paused outside the open sliding door, frozen with shock by what he saw. Two lovely kitsune ladies, dressed in fine silk, served Rin a banquet fit for a lord. One was robed in the cool colors of night and winter; the other vibrant with the colors of autumn and fire. Each held an identical, elegant pitcher, and they took turns vying for the right to fill her small, delicate glass.

Six more kitsunes preformed like circus acrobats; juggling and balancing on balls for Rin's entertainment. The sound of her clapping and giggles only encouraged them, until the feats they preformed were blatantly illusion.

It was unlike Rin to miss seeing him, even with that many distractions. He came to the conclusion that he was still outside the enclosed reality of the inn, and started to step through, only to find his way blocked by a powerful youki. Calling upon his own power, he pressed the awesome weight of his against the barrier, but it didn't budge.

He was helpless to do anything to but watch as, with a soft sigh, Rin fell asleep at the kitsunes' table. His glare was cold and deadly, yet the kitsunes ignored him as they cleared away everything else in the room but Rin and her cushion.

"Do not glower so at me, insolent pup," a soft, feminine, authoritative voice purred as a door slid back to reveal an ornately dressed Lady with nine tails. "I will return your girl to you unharmed, all it good time."

Rin's servers reappeared to flank the lady, kneeling to either side of Rin with small earthen jars in their hands. An unnatural wind crooned to life as they opened the stoppers, and Sesshoumaru watched with grim humor as ephemeral shapes of fiery maple leaves and icy snowflakes rose from Rin's sleeping form. On and on the wind sang, filling the earthen jars with the shapes.

"Enough," the Lady decreed, motioning for her retainers to close the stoppers.

"Be sure to give my regards to your mother," she told Sesshoumaru as she, the kitsunes, and all the rich trappings of the inn faded, leaving only Rin.

"_Oh, and do come again, dear," _her disembodied voice added merrily. _"I do so love having sugar and spice for my tea."_


	11. Fuzzy Fixation

Disclaimer: The characters of InuYasha are not mine, they are property of Rumiko Takahashi, Shogakukan, Yomiuri TV, Sunrise, and Viz. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. No copyright infringement is intended. This was written with the sole intent of the reader's satisfaction and the author's own personal satisfaction.

Word Count: 1,181  
Rating: G  
Characters: Sesshoumaru, Rin, Jaken (all platonic)  
Genre: Humor  
Summary: Rin has a goal. And she will not be deterred.  
Reason to Read: Because weird fetishes surely start out something completely innocent...  
Warnings: None other than this comes deliriously close to being a crack!fic. Probably falls just short enough to be cheezy humor instead, but it makes me chuckle and maybe you will enjoy it too...

Written for iyficcontest on LJ.

# Fuzzy Fixation #

Inadvertently, Jaken placed the idea in her head. And once it lodged there and grew into a full bodied, robust ambition, there was no deterring her.

Come hell or high water, Rin _would_ touch Sesshoumaru-sama's fluffy.

Like any other thing that caught her attention, his moko-moko suddenly became the center of her _undivided_ fascination. Of course, she was smart enough to figure out that a direct approach was most likely to only earn her his animosity, so she settled in among the wild flowers and thought it over for a while.

If she asked him nicely, all he would have to say was no and she'd be out of luck.

If she somehow managed to sneak up on him, she imagined that surprising Sesshoumaru-sama would not end well for her. One _accidental_ swipe of his claws and she'd still be dead.

If she could distract him long enough he didn't notice...

Yes, maybe that would work.

But what kind of thing would be able to distract _Sesshoumaru-sama?_

No flower she knew of was big enough or pretty enough to work. He didn't eat any of the type of food that Rin knew how to get. He never slept as far as Rin could ever tell.

How _did_ one distract a taiyoukai?

When he was killing something that was trying to kill her, _then_ he was distracted. Rin wrinkled her nose, unable to picture a possible opportunity to pet the soft fur while she was fleeing for her life.

Rin sighed with exaggerated frustration.

"What's wrong with you?" Jaken asked as he plopped down beside her in the grass. "You sound like a leaky air bladder."

"Do not!" she shot back, more out of the habit of being contrary rather than the actual desire to be so.

"Do to!"

"Do not!"

"Jaken," Sesshoumaru's voice cut their childish argument short.

"Stupid human," Jaken dared to mutter under his breath, only to be struck in the back of the head by a well aimed rock.

"Ow," he mumbled grumpily as Rin giggled.

She waited until he had righted himself and stopped rubbing the lump on his head before posing her question, knowing that the likelihood of her getting a straight answer increased the longer he had to get over being grumpy.

"Jaken-sama, how do you distract a taiyoukai?"

"Pah," Jaken scoffed immediately, "Impossible."

"But Jaken-sama! What if it _was?_ What would distract a taiyoukai?" Rin persisted.

"Nothing! Sesshoumaru-sama is all powerful, all knowing, all seeing—"

"Jaken-sama!" Rin protested with the beginnings of a whine in her voice.

"Stupid girl, I am telling you that it _does not exist—_oh," Jaken halted mid sentence, inspiration lighting up his small green face.

"Please tell Rin!" she immediately started coaxing. "Rin will be good for the rest of the day—"

"No," Jaken instantly and decisively replied.

"But—"

"No."

"Please?"

"_No!"_

"Why not?" Rin nearly wailed, knowing that whatever Jaken knew must be good because of how hard he was trying _not_ to tell her.

"Because _I'll_ be the one punished for it, stupid human!" he growled.

For a while they sat in silence, Jaken refusing to look at her as she dejectedly picked at grass stems. At last, after what seemed like an eternity, he glanced over his shoulder at her.

"Please?" she asked, looking innocent and hopeful and adorable all at once.

"No."

"Please?"

"_No!"_

"_Please?!"_

Jaken sighed.

"You have to promise to be _very good_ for _two weeks._ No screaming, no crying, no back talking your elders, especially me. Okay?" he conceded.

"_Two weeks?!"_ she exclaimed with horror.

"I don't have to tell you…" he started.

"Okay," she hastily agreed. "Rin will be good."

"Very good?" he queried with suspicion.

"Rin will be _very, very _good!" she promised with zest.

Jaken sighed again. Then he motioned her over and whispered something in her ear. Puzzlement clouded her face.

"But Rin knows—" she remarked, only to have her words cut off by his hand.

"_Shh!"_ he admonished her. "You have to _pretend_ like you _don't know_ or it will never work, understand?!"

Beneath the press of his hand she mutely nodded, her eyes wide with comprehension. After a moment of staring into her dark gaze and making sure she understood, he released her. A bit unsteadily she got to her feet and toddled off towards Sesshoumaru, sparing an uncertain glance or two back at Jaken.

She came to a standing halt beside the lounging form of her lord, opening her mouth only to find that no words would come out. For several seconds she did her best impression of a gaping fish, unable to voice the question Jaken had told her to ask.

"Yes?" Sesshoumaru prompted her after a lengthy pause.

"Rinwantstoknowwherebabiescomefrom!" she blurted out in a rush.

When he gave her no other response than a slow blink of his unsettlingly keen golden eyes, she tried again.

"Where do babies come from?" she asked with proper form.

The look of frozen, arrested, dawning surprise on his face was enough to make her dance nervously from foot to foot. Instinctively she dropped her eyes, risking a quick swipe of her palm over the soft white fur of his adornment before darting away as fast as her little legs could carry her.

"Jaken," Sesshoumaru purred; his voice warm with anger. "Come here."

Hidden safely on the other side of Ahun's great bulk, Rin listened with sympathy as Sesshoumaru told Jaken exactly what he'd do to him next time he put "ideas" into Rin's head. Tucking away the somewhat colorful, wonderfully shocking creativeness of _this_ particular threat for later use, Rin stopped peeking over the saddle rim of Ahun's gear and put her back to the dragon's slick scaly side, sliding down she sat leaning against the mount.

With one ear alertly cocked towards the cadence of Jaken's dressing down, she opened the palm of her hand and regarded it as though it held the secret to magic. Beneath the calluses, her nerve endings still tingled with his residual youki. The downy tickle of the fur was still real enough to be a phantom sensation in the cup of her hand. The remembrance of the silkiness as the long strands whispered against her fingertips was enough to make her want to bite them to stop the prickle of needles.

Her eyes went slightly unfocused as she stared at her open palm without really seeing it. Disbelief, triumph, and happiness bubbled up within her like a hot spring as she hugged herself around the waist.

She'd done it.

And she wanted to do it again.

Maybe if she was very,_ very, __**very **_good Jaken would share more ideas on how to distract a taiyoukai with her and she'd get to stroke the softness of his fluffy again. Regardless of Jaken's willingness to help her, she knew she was going to try again and again until she succeeded. With one hit she was a lifetime addict, capable of doing anything to get her next fix…

Because she just couldn't get enough of that warm fuzzy feeling.


	12. Indulgence

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Warming: Spoilers for up to chapter 518 in Inuyasha manga

# Indulgence #

_Spring._

It was not a rational conclusion that came from the workings of his logical mind, from watching the passage of the stars and marking the day of the equinox. Instead, it was a mere feeling, recognition of winter's chill at last being gone. The sunshine was warm enough to seep into his being, easing the phantom pains in his old battle wounds and his new arm that the cold has troubled him with. The breeze that swept through the sheltered valley was gentle and fragrant with the season's first blooms.

In the meadow of yellow flowers, Rin was not the only young that played under a keen, watchful gaze. Without turning his head, he could tell where a doe had hidden her fawn. He could tell where a vixen had whelped in her den, the soft cries and whines as her kits sought her milk audible to his discerning ears. Nature's renewal was in full swing; predator and prey alike were busy with their families.

The predator within him was no different. Spring brought with it an instinctive need to stretch his legs, to push his body to its limits until his stiff muscles were once more limber. His awareness of all the potential prey around him disturbed his complacency as he lounged beneath a tree. In the untouched wilderness of the mountain valley, he was beyond tempted by the lure to hunt and to taste fresh meat on his tongue. The restless, pinned energy within him bordered perilously close to needing relief; yet he chose to sit and soak in the sunshine and brood over the most recent turn of events instead of granting himself release.

The weight of Bakusaiga sat heavily on Sesshoumaru's hip like a rebuke, the dull sluggish burden of his reformed arm a quieter echo of the sword. He looked down to where he was subconsciously flexing his left hand in agitation; and the lack of bold slashes across the wrist was a sharp reminder that he had yet to claim either arm or sword as his.

Because he had yet to accept that either was truly dependable.

Their manifestation was still too…_convenient_…for him to simply accept them at face value. He had so blindingly invested in the unexpected strength of Tensaiga, only to have the fruits of _his_ labor ripped away by Tessaiga that he was loathe to trust anything that stank of his father's meddling. Even if, according to Toutousai, Bakusaiga was and had always been "his."

The appearance of both sword and arm felt too much like charity from his father, a consolation prize for the Meidou he'd lost. It was just like the great Inutaisho to make such a worthless gesture of sympathy after slyly plotting to steal the accomplishment of one son and give it to another.

The bitter reality that his father still meant enough to him for the insult to sting twisted deeply into Sesshoumaru's gut. Not only had his father gifted Tessaiga to Inuyasha; he'd given Sesshoumaru, the full youkai son, a _fragment_ that yielded its power to his brother's sword. That his father intended for he, _Sesshoumaru,_ to depend upon _Inuyasha_ and the power _he alone_ could wield was enough for Sesshoumaru to see red and lust for blood so badly he panted from the intensity of it.

As a pup, he'd never considered his father's attention degrading. He'd basked in the glow of his father's favor, had watched his powerful father with worshipful eyes, and longed to be like his sire. It wasn't until he grew into a skilled enough opponent to challenge his father that he discovered the truth. The great Inutaisho _needed_ those around him to be weak and dependant upon him to feel confident and strong.

To keep his father's love, Sesshoumaru realized he would have to affect weakness. He suddenly understood why his father had rejected his mother when she refused to bow her head to him. In a choice between love and pride, he followed in his mother's footsteps and chose the latter. Only, unlike his mother, he never earned his father's recognition of being his equal.

Before he could defeat his father and distinguish himself, the great Inutaisho died for nothing more than a mortal woman and a squalling brat. It was almost fitting that the female his father had chosen because she would _always_ be weaker and the child he'd sired that would always _need_ its father's protection were the death of him. He, Sesshoumaru, had been able to give up on acquiring Tessaiga once he'd discovered that the bond between it and Inuyasha ensured his brother would _always_ be dependent upon the prop of their father's fang.

As for his inheritance of Tensaiga, it was no mistake of Inutaisho's that he had been given a swordthat _saved_ lives. Because he, his father's son, was not filled with the _need_ to rescue unfortunates to prove his power, his father had given him a sword designed to manipulate him into being more compassionate.

He'd been foolish to think he could completely escape the weight of his father's legacy. By making the concession of carrying Tensaiga, he'd already conceded to his father's wishes in some small way. The moment that Tensaiga awakened and saved his life was enough to change him forever.

Because he'd met Rin.

Perhaps it was because he saw a bit of his younger self in her that he allowed his guard down around her.

With only a glance he could tell she was mostly self sufficient, a rarity among a species of whining, lazy gluttons. Her offer of food—the food that was meant to fill _her_ stomach—was a type of selfless act he'd never witnessed among her kind before. Without meaning to, he'd casually returned her interest in kind, motivated mostly by idle curiosity. Her smile was shocking, a rare sight seldom directed at him, and so that might be why it lingered in his mind.

On a moment's whim, he went out of his way to restore the smile to her face. Afterwards, he never could recall _why_ he'd done it. Despite his best attempts, his efforts to pin down his exact motivation failed, leaving him with the nagging suspicion that Tensaiga had tricked him into fulfilling his father's wishes.

The surprise of the girl choosing to follow him was quickly replaced by an internal debate of whether he should interfere and drive her away. Time passed with him making no decision, and eventually he admitted to himself that by letting her do as she pleased, he'd already inadvertently chosen.

From the beginning, he showed only a casual interest in her and her needs. Yet, somehow, that seemed to be exactly what she craved because she blossomed into a healthy, active child. His irritation at having to make concessions for her humanity gradually ceased as he found himself observing her, looking for something she _did_ need. He had been correct in his assumption that she could take care of herself; watching with slight bemusement as she easily adapted her lifestyle to compensate for his.

The fact that he returned the favor and made small changes in his life for her was not something he dwelled on too deeply, preferring instead to think on other, less unsettling things. She showed him the proper respect and obedience he demanded, and if her motivation for doing so was more due to hero worship than frightened awe, he cared not. He was not his father, dependant on the recognition of others to appease his ego.

_Then why, when she died during his quest to strengthen Tensaiga, had he felt as if he'd failed her...?_

He had no need for Rin; yet he was also unwilling to trade her life for power. Measured against the thousand of lives he was responsible for ending, she was less than nothing and yet…_she_ mattered. Enough that he was willing to find some other way to fulfill his quest to grow stronger. Enough that he was willing to forgo the immediate solution to his goal.

The victory of mastering Tensaiga's Meidou had been an empty one; and he found himself glad he had not sacrificed Rin for something so meaningless. The useless sword remained where Rin had strapped it to Ahun's saddle, and he had no interest in disturbing it. If not for Rin, he would have abandoned the fang completely and if not for his need for Bakusaiga and the power it represented, it would have shared the same fate.

He was far too practical to give up a strategic advantage just because of his emotional feelings. His resentment towards both the arm and Bakusaiga would not make him hesitate to use both in battle; yet his refusal to use either in daily life struck him as a shallow, petty difference. He kept them with him out of necessity and bore the encumbrance of them without any of the advantages. Obstinate distrust colored his view of them; yet the strong belief that he needed to familiarize himself with both before lives—his and his companions—depended on them put him at direct odds with himself.

The tight, dangerous coil of emotions inside was a direct result from his struggle; made worse by the feverish restlessness spring always brought on. He was in no condition to achieve compromise within himself, and the most direct route of relief was closed to him because of his conflicted state. If he called forth the transformation that would allow him to run and hunt on all fours, it would mean accepting the arm as his own.

Impatient with his own indecisiveness, he stirred and rose. The sweet-sharp longing that was the beginning of bloodlust hovered perilously close to the surface and he was inclined to appease it, the residue of old hatred and anger towards his father leaving him with a foul taste in his mouth. The desire to find a worthy opponent—one who merited the strength of his true self—lured him with the easy solution it offered. Unsatisfied but resigned that influence of an outside source was the only immediate resolution, he turned to leave.

Only a little hand fisting in the voluminous material of his sleeve stopped him.

"Sesshoumaru…-sama?" Rin called, the happy demand for attention in her voice shifting into a timid question as she sensed the danger emanating from him.

Beneath her grip, he went unnaturally still as they both realized that she'd touched him without invitation or permission. Behind her, Jaken froze and both of Ahun's heads looked up from their grazing. The cold, quiet instinct to kill what had invaded his personal space was checked by his familiar recognition of Rin; her lack of fear or threat further soothing his subconscious objection to being touched. Forcing himself to curb his burgeoning bloodlust, he made a conscious effort to tighten his control of himself. Through it all, Rin remained still, waiting until his mercurial silence shifted and the tension in his body eased before she spoke.

"Sesshoumaru-sama, Jaken-sama says you have the best nose of all youkai. Is that true?" Rin blurted out curiously.

Unusually reticent, displeased by her distracting him, he nodded once in affirmation.

"Then Sesshoumaru-sama can find _anything_ or _anyone,_ right?" Rin continued blithely

Wariness stilled his impulsive response, caution replacing his impatience as he puzzled over the motivations behind her line of questioning. Of all the beings he had ever interacted with over his many years, Rin remained one of the only ones who could still surprise him. Experience made him give up the futility of trying to anticipate the direction the conversation, and he gave her another curt nod in answer.

"Will you play hide and seek with me, Sesshoumaru-sama? Rin is _very good_ at hiding!" she ended in a rush.

Taken aback, he favored her with a long, slow blink as he processed what she was asking. He had been expecting something unexpected, and yet once again she had succeeded in blindsiding him. The startle was enough to upset his inner state, shocking him out of the last, lingering preoccupation left by his brooding. Feeling more clear headed and alert, he stilled his first sharp, negative answer as he returned her regard.

Taking his lack of response to mean that he was angry with Rin, Jaken hastily jumped in and started to scold her furiously for her audacity.

"Stupid girl! Our lord Sesshoumaru-sama has _way_ more important things to do than play with _you!"_ he grumbled at Rin, who ignored his attempts to pull her away.

Tuning out the grating loudness of Jaken's voice, Sesshoumaru stopped to seriously consider Rin's request as she continued to watch him with unwavering attention. Had he not just been seeking a reason to become his canine self? It was beneath him to _play_ with her, but to allow her to serve as the quarry while he hunted her, _that_ was an offer he found himself willing to entertain.

If he were to be honest with himself, finding a worthy opponent capable of demanding all he had to give in battle was as difficult and futile a search as finding Naraku. It was not a quest to be undertaken lightly; and would require him setting aside both his companions and his hunt for Naraku, something he was unwilling to do at this crucial point.

Yet, it did not negate his need for absolution of his inner strife.

He looked down into her hopeful eyes and felt the quiet pull of _something_ that she had over him. He was not, and never would be, comfortable with the way his peace of mind seemed to revolve around her safety, nor the way her presence seemed to call his emotions like the moon called the tides. But neither was he averse to using it to his advantage.

He had not thrown away Bakusaiga, ripped out the arm at the beginning like he should. His decision was made; and his acceptance of that was all that remained to haunt him. He would not willfully cripple himself, not in light of the coming fight. Naraku was a tiresome opponent and he admitted that Bakusaiga might be the edge he needed to defeat him.

There was also the small matter that _she_ rested in the balance. If he was not strong enough to win, the most likely outcome was that _her_ life would be forfeited.

"Very well," he agreed at last, shocking Jaken into stupefied quiet.

He chose to ignore the indignity of the imp's gaping, settling into the concentration he needed to release his youki before feelings of resentment against his father crippled him again. As the violent red aura swirled to life around him, he felt the reformed arm tingle as his power flowed into it and began to change it along with the rest of him. Amid the distraction of his body dissolving and reshaping, he made the effort to watch as his youki stained his left wrist with its tell tale markings.

Rin's squeak of surprise was punctuated by Jaken's harsh squawk, her unhappy squeals of protest diminishing in volume as Jaken dragged her away to cover.

"Jaken-sama! Let go!! What's happening to Sesshoumaru-sama?!?!" she exclaimed.

"Nothing you can stop now, foolish girl!" Jaken snapped with ire. "When Sesshoumaru-sama finishes changing, he's going to come gobble you up in one bite! And probably me too for dessert! Oh, stupid, stupid, stupid human! _Why_ did you have to insult our lord's dignity by asking him to play a _human_ game with you?!" he bemoaned more to himself.

Sesshoumaru felt his awareness of them flash out for a fraction of a second as his youki completed the dissolution of his humanoid form and began the rebuilding of his canine one. The sound of Jaken's grumbling was different to his larger ears, the diatribe ending before he could locate the two by the imp's voice. Rin's response allowed him to pinpoint them behind a small crest of rock.

"Ah! Rin wants to _see!_ _Let go,_ Jaken-sama!" she protested, a solid thump punctuating her words.

Jaken made a strangled, rough sound of pain.

"Ow ow! Ungrateful chit!" he snarled. "Fine! Go! See if I care!"

His nose was there to greet Rin as she scrambled over the edge. He inhaled deeply of her warm, earthy scent, memorizing it for the coming hunt. The hint of fear rising from her body brought him up short. He was struck by the realization that she'd never seen his other form before, and that as a mere mouthful, perhaps there was just reason for her to be frightened. He doubted that she'd be either willing or safe if he hunted her while she smelled of fear, but inspiration as to how to amend the situation failed to present itself. He froze as Rin looked up, up into his crimson and gold eyes.

"Sess…shoumaru-sama?" she whimpered uneasily. "Where's…Sesshoumaru-sama?!" she choked out around the beginning of a sob, looking around as if to find him.

"Idiot!" Jaken growled as he came to stand beside her. "_That's_ Sesshoumaru-sama!" he exclaimed, pointing at Sesshoumaru's giant black nose.

Comprehension slowly dawned in Rin's stunned gaze.

"Sessshoumaru…-sama?" she tried tentatively, her wide, panicky dark eyes back on him.

A tail wag was beneath his dignity, so he settled for a _whuff_ of agreement. Unexpectedly she reached out and pressed her hands flat against the wet, sensitive skin before her, stirring to life a furious itch that refused to die out on its own. Rearing back, he sat, lifting his left paw and running over his nose several times. Rin greeted his actions with a giddy, nervous giggle, clapping her hands together with delight.

"Sesshoumaru-sama's a doggie!" she exclaimed with all the weight of a life changing epiphany.

"Of course he is, stupid girl," Jaken grumbled with his usual gruff, almost affectionate discontent. "What did you think he was? Human like _you?"_

Knowing that the two could argue all day without regard to anyone else, Sesshoumaru barked sharply with blatant command. Jaken and Rin both jumped, looking up at him with wide eyed, startled expressions.

"Rin!" Jaken reprimanded when the girl didn't budge. "Go! _Hide!"_ he prompted urgently, giving Rin an ungentle shove.

"Huh?!" Rin squeaked, her intimidation hindering her thoughts.

"_Hurry!"_ Jaken ordered as he made furious shooing motions with his hand in her direction. "You _don't_ want to keep him waiting!"

Mild bewilderment crossed Rin's face as she got to her feet and skipped hastily down the slope to the valley floor. She paused long enough to turn wary eyes up at Sesshoumaru, leaning way, way back to look up at him.

"Sesshoumaru-sama, please count to one hundred as Rin hides. Then, Sesshoumaru-sama is supposed to come find Rin…okay?" she instructed tentatively.

He _whuffed_ impatiently, choking back the urge to bark until she fled him in real terror. As soon as she was out of sight, he made himself lie down to wait. His eyes slid close in mimicry of sleep as he kept a mental tally of counting. One hundred came too early, the sounds and smells of her small body still obvious to him. He let out a soft sigh of disappointment as he realized it wouldn't be a _true_ hunt, not with his habitual, protective instincts keeping accurate track of her whereabouts. Another long exhale released the tight, excited tension that had been building in him, leaving behind mild irritation at having to move from his place in the sunshine.

Regardless of the lack of challenge, he had agreed to find her, and so with mock reluctance he yawned and stretched and rose. Setting his sights on the tallest peak surrounding the cup of the sheltered valley, he launched himself and streaked across the tree covered floor. The distance was deceptive; farther than it appeared to be, and by the time he reached his goal he was panting, his heart racing as he strutted the last few steps and seated himself regally over the entire view.

He took a moment to clear his lungs, letting the sharp bite of cold, oxygen deficient air fill them before lifting his muzzle to the distant, faded view of the moon in the daytime sky. The howl left him in a rush, gathering force as it vibrated through the thin air and pulsed outward in waves. Eerie and unearthly, more like the keening bay of a hound than the croon of a wolf's song, it floated over the valley and ruffled the leaves on the trees. His senses were keen enough for him to be aware of the way a hundred thousand different heartbeats stuttered with fright, then raced with adrenaline as the valley's occupants scrambled for cover or fled in blind fear. Satisfaction mellowed his mood as the maelstrom of coiled power in his true form wrapped him in its thunderous embrace. Like morning mist, it burned away his doubts, doing much to restore his confidence in himself.

_He was complete again._

The thump, thump, thump of his four footed gait beat a tattoo of triumph as his reformed limb held up under the punishment. Again and again he circled the valley, emptying it of all life as he careened recklessly through it, drunk on his own power and prowess. Exuberance rose within him in an irrepressible rush and he bayed again, feeling the earth tremble beneath his feet with the rolling bass of it.

Finally, winded, he doubled back to where Jaken and Ahun cowered against a rock face, eyeing them with just enough speculative interest that the stench of fear and sweat rose from both. Puzzlement curbed some of his excitement as he cast about for sight of Rin.

Oh.

Consternation cooled his ardor as he realized she must be still hiding somewhere, waiting for him to find her. The subtle thread of unease at not knowing where she was bridled his wilder nature, giving him the focus he needed for the task at hand. Somehow, amid his indulgence, she had slipped out from under his detection. Only the fact that the valley was void of potential threat kept him from tasting panic as he strode to the head of the divide.

Slow, meticulous, patient; he was the thorough in his search as any expert hunter, chasing the whiffs of her scent trail to their ends. His white plume of a tail moved in an agitated tick-tock wag as he sauntered forward, deeply focused on what his nose was telling him. Catching a fresh scent at last, he bounded forward with his tail held proudly behind him like a flag. With a mighty, exaggerated leap, he pounced, his massive paws slapping the ground to either side of her hiding place.

When she failed to immediately crawl out and greet him, he barked once, twice with impatience. A small, terrified squeak caught his attention, and instantly he curbed his enthusiasm, laying down in a futile attempt to look smaller. Another sound, one less frightened and more nervously excited, issued from the bush between his feet. Undeterred, he stuck his nose into the branches and gently rooted her out with his snout. Several snuffles to her hair and person reassured him that she was not hurt; and by the end of his inspection she was giggling with peals of laughter.

"Ah, Sesshoumaru-sama!" she shouted as she fended off his cold wet nose. "It's Rin's turn to count!"

He sat back with offended grace, the thought of letting _her_ hunt _him_ rankling his pride. The bright excitement in her large dark eyes, the happiness in her body language, communicated itself to him as it struck a chord inside. She was no bigger than his paw, yet she had waited and trusted in him when the rest of the valley's occupants had fled from him. She was indirectly responsible for the quiet _rightness_ that possessed him again.

Not until he resumed his canine form and felt the intense relief of being _whole_ had he realized how much being crippled had troubled him. He had abstained from taking his true form, because the reality of his missing front left limb had affected him more when it hindered his very mobility. Like a raw, aching wound, he had felt the loss keenly, as only a predator might. Only in battle, only as a final resort, had he called upon his fangs and claws.

It was indeed a beautiful spring, ripe with new potential.

He would _play_ with her, just this once. He gave her an agreeable _whuff;_ eyeing her with something akin to tender amusement as she turned her back, closed her eyes, and started to count. For all of the giganticness of his paws, his footfalls were silent as he snuck away.

The difficulty of the challenge of hiding his white, enormous bulk in a young forest in broad daylight struck him suddenly, and humor untwisted by his usual sardonic view of the world lifted his mood. Hampered by time, he chose at random from among his few options, tucking himself into a tight ball as he waited. Out of habit, his tail curled to cover his black nose, his ears pricked with alertness to detect her approach.

Gradually his crimson and gold eyes shut as the late afternoon sunshine made him drowsy and complacent. His slumber was deep enough to make him oblivious when Rin flew over with Ahun and Jaken, landing the dragon beside him. He did nothing more than lift one eye lid to look with lazy confirmation of what his ears were telling him as she scrambled over the bulk of his tail and settled into the nook created by the curve of his neck. Her body was a hard, heavy warmth against him as she yawned mightily and snuggled deeper into his silky silver fur for a nap.

Jaken got no further than touching his tail before he opened his eye again. A brief lift of his lip to display his impressive fangs and a small trickle of a growl was enough to tell the imp he was not welcome. Darkly amused by Jaken's pathetic signs of rejection, Sesshoumaru tucked himself infinitesimally tighter around Rin with sated contentment.

He was an inu taiyoukai after all, and he did not have to share if he didn't want to.


	13. Well Wishes

He could not speak the words

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

# Well Wishes #

Sesshoumaru could not speak the words. It was beneath him to even be preoccupied by Rin's illness and yet he felt as fretful as Jaken, even if he did not express himself so vocally.

There was nothing else they could do but watch over her, having secured warmth, food, and shelter for her.

Except…

Without a sound Sesshoumaru turned and exited the small hut. Moments later he returned, shooting a murderous glare at Jaken to keep him from commenting. After a slight hesitation, he lifted one of Rin's hands and gently tucked the stem of a small flower beneath it.

#


	14. Transcendent

Transcendent

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

# Transcendent #

Cold and swift the wind brushes against her cheek. Pale and damp the clouds touch her skin. Silent and deadly her escort glides along ahead of her, leading the way.

She looks down and away, on the fields of rice paddies and the thin ribbon of a road that runs between them. The dark dots strung along it look like little hunchback beetles, the refugees of war reduced to nothing more than scurrying insects.

She used to be one of them. Another faceless orphan, a refugee in need of shelter.

The villagers took her in out of pity, out of some sense of self righteous duty. She never _asked_ them to, but as a child she has no say in her own future. She does not adapt well to being a beggar, preferring to forage for food before groveling for it. Resentment and confusion greet her at every turn as she fails to conform to the villagers' expectations.

How can she tell them that she has no trust left to give? She has seen the fallibility of humans and their huddle of shelters. Be it wolves or war, bandits or bad weather, their prosperity is dependant upon mere cosmic whim.

She is wise, in her childlike way. When she finds him in the woods, she recognizes him as being _different_. She offers him what little she has, hoping he will stay. She knows it is futile, but she cannot suppress the slim light of hope his presence brings her.

That is why she runs to him with the wolves on her heels. Because he is her last and only chance.

Surreal; the experience of waking from the dead as if from sleep pales in comparison of finding herself _cradled in his arms_. She has admired him from afar, pale icy perfection, and thought of him as a fortress, impenetrable and untouchable. To be offered his protection is beyond her wildest imaginings.

Now…she keeps company with youkai. She flies across the sky with a retinue that would do a moon princess proud. She is no longer earth bound and struggling to survive. She will never be one of _them;_ but she will never be quite _human_ again either.

She is not 'enlightened' as the monks teach, but she has transcended her former existence all the same.

Because of him. Sesshoumaru, her refuge.

#


	15. Miracle

She is only a child, who wishes upon a shooting star

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

# Miracle #

She is only a child, who wishes upon a shooting star.

She is a human, who grows and lives and dies, in the span of a mere handful of his heartbeats. Like pages of a child's picture book, her existence passes beneath his fingertips as time compels him to hear her story to its end. Over and over he returns to her modest little grave, as if to refresh the memories whose reality he can no longer quite grasp…

Out of the corner of his eye, he almost sees the wind tease dark locks of silken hair. In a crowded street and in the quiet gloom of solitude, the echo of her laughter almost reaches his ears. Utter dark, where he can hide from his shame, he almost feels his hands on his body as hers…

Turn by turn the sun and moon shine upon him, turn by turn summer, fall, winter, and spring surround him, but time leaves him untouched. Change sinks its talons into all but he, leaving him perfect and incomplete. Her race grows dominant and lazy, lethargic in its success and wholly complacent in its place at the top of the world…

He is too tired to remind them of the things they once respected and feared. Deeper and higher they press on in their march of expansion, but there is only so far they can push the boundaries of their fragile lives. He retreats to the last wildernesses of nature, unbothered by hunger or thirst, untainted by mortality except for a heart that ever more aches for her…

He learns, inadvertently, of the human technology that claims to replicate exactly the one being cloned. His search through his old territory is frantic, his regret at having not guarded her grave well enough razor keen. It takes him months to find anything he recognizes, and longer to locate the place her body used to rest. A mysterious break in leaves a deep hole in a prosperous bank's floor, nothing stolen but whatever rested beneath the building…

Bribery, coercion, fear; he uses them all until they promise to give him what he wants. A perfect little baby girl that he has them keep in stasis, her little fingers and toes curled as if in sleep.

Once more a rusted sword is pulled from its brittle sheath and the stone guardians are forced to once again yield to the master of the blade. Beyond the bone yard, beyond the skeleton of his father, he lays siege to the very core of Hell until he finds the bright little soul he craves. Carefully he entraps her in a ceramic urn, tucking the sealed vessel against his skin as he flies swiftly out of the closing gates.

Magic older than he himself implants the spirit inside the body created with cutting edge science. Dark brown eyes open—and her coo of delight is like sunshine to his parched, lonely being. Tiny, delicate fingers grab hold of one long, clawed, callused one as the love embittered by her death bursts once more into full, fragrant life. A soft, fragile smile of hope lights his face, reaching all the way into his flinty amber eyes, as she toothlessly grins up at him with recognition.

He is only the taiyoukai, who wishes to keep her forever.

#


	16. Nightmare

He had no dreams

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

# Nightmare #

He had no dreams. Ambitions, yes, but not the illusive folly of the mind called dreams. Truth came in no soft shades of grey for him and there were no ifs or maybes ever considered as he gauged the world around him. The twinges of emotion that might have been the dying throes of his heart had no bearing on his logically executed actions.

She, by stark contrast, was blind to all but the way her surroundings made her feel. Flowers were picked because they were beautiful, butterflies chased because they danced by her, sunshine enjoyed because it warmed her.

He, even in his most subconscious intentions, only revived her in order to try and understand her. He assigned value to the merit of studying her and sought enlightenment so that when he faced the kind of enemies who let their emotions rule them, he would have the advantage in battle.

He did not comprehend that there was weakness in understanding and strength in ignorance. Yet if he had been told that truth at the time he chose to go back and wield Tensaiga for her sake, he would have scoffed at such nonsense. He was an inu taiyoukai, untouchable and invincible. The knowledge of gaining greater insight into her species would have out weighted what he never once considered a risk.

That was before Rin planted the seed of uncertainty inside him.

Her very existence became the wedge driven into his view of the world until he faltered, no longer sure of his way. Why did he fight to preserve her life when her very mortality was the reason he'd acquired her in the first place? Dying a meaningless death was as much a part of her humanity as her simple, silly joy in living her short life.

Yet, not only did he prevent nature from taking its natural course where she was concerned, he sought to force _his_ way of life upon her. The fact that he could not defy _her_ eventual death became a source of anxiety as acute as his grudge against his father for failing to live up to his, Sesshoumaru's, expectations.

During the day, when the obvious signs of her vitality and health could not be ignored, the tension eased and other more important things successfully occupied his thoughts. Only at night, with nothing but the sullen glow of embers from the campfire for diversion, could he not escape the grip of dread that slithered stealthily into his musings.

His periods of letting his body rest as his active mind continued to work gradually slipped into something closer to true sleep as morbid whimsies of "what if" preyed upon his usually organized contemplations. Delusion, as his mother had once called his father's odd fascination with humans, seemed to be the legacy he inherited as the vivacity and duration of his subconscious terrors' manifestation increased.

It wasn't until he actually nodded off, and then came wide awake with a silent gasp of gripping, breath stealing panic that he finally realized his own fallibility. In arrogant folly, he'd set out to learn what it was to be like his enemy. With the cold, sick burn of adrenaline still coursing through his veins, he realized success.

Only a little girl, no higher than his knee, could teach him what it was to feel fear.

#


	17. Word of Mouth

The first time Jaken read a story to Rin from the book of fairytales that had been a holiday gift from Kagome, he was as eager

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

# Word of Mouth #

The first time Jaken read a story to Rin from the book of fairytales that had been a holiday gift from Kagome, he was as eager—impatient even—to find out what happened on the next page as Rin. The seventh time he had completed reading to Rin every story within its worn cover, he regretted having so loudly boasted that _he_ could read the book to the illiterate Rin.

Her favorite story was the "Nutcracker."

So of course, when it came time for Jaken to watch after his master's ward while he was away, she again requested to hear the story.

"Enough!" Jaken snarled irritably at last. "You've heard it _six_ times today!"

"But—" Rin started.

"No!" Jaken snapped; relieved when she finally fell silent.

For a moment.

"Then, can we play pretend?" Rin asked.

Jaken puzzled that over. That seemed innocent enough.

"Okay," he agreed cautiously.

"Good!" Rin piped happily, her face lighting up. "Then you can be the Nutcracker, and I'll be Clare and Ahun will be the Mouse King and you'll have to come rescue me!"

"That's not the way the story—" Jaken started to protest, only to watch with dismay as Rin mounted Ahun and urged him into the sky.

"Come find me!" she called merrily as she and Ahun shrank into nothing more than a dark spot in the sky.

Jaken gave a strangled squawk and dashed after them as fast as his little legs could carry him.

Bored, bored, _bored!_

Kagura was not one to thrive on idle waiting. Her master was annoyingly absent and without any mischief for her to do.

So, like any good zephyr, she set out to make a little of her own.

She spotted the tousle headed little orphan astride the back of a dragon by sheer chance and decided to have a little fun with her at Sesshoumaru's expense.

Jaken spotted the pale feather closing in on Rin and Ahun, and could do nothing more than watch helplessly as the wind witch snatched the girl off the dragon's back and whisk away in a thunderous burst of torrent winds. It was a matter of moments before he tracked down the windblown Ahun and soothed the beast enough it would fly for him. High-tailing it off to find Sesshoumaru, Jaken prayed that his master would be lenient in his punishment.

"…And so the clock chimed midnight and Clare awoke to the sound of mice on the floor…"

The sweet, high pitch of Rin's voice reached Sesshoumaru's ears as he assessed it for either stress or fear. Hearing neither, having expected to hear both, he paused long enough to send a scathing look at a cowering, agitated Jaken as he entered the high mountain cave.

He frowned with stern disbelief down at the pair of dark heads as Rin turned the page and continued the story by rote. With captivated intensity, Kagura waved her fan dismissively at Sesshoumaru as she bent her head closer to peer at the pictures in the book.

"…Clare and the prince entered the land of the Sugar Plum Fairies…" Rin continued with single minded concentration, oblivious to her enlarged audience.

Jaken opened his mouth to deliver a scolding worthy of Rin's trespass; but a cryptic look from Sesshoumaru quieted him as the pale dog demon selected a spot against the cavern wall and settled himself for a long wait. Jaken might of said that he was listening to the story with an attentive ear, but it was like Sesshoumaru to always be aware of his surroundings, so he couldn't say for sure whether his master was merely indulging Rin or not. Out of other options, Jaken also sat down to wait, finding himself caught up in the story despite himself…

"…and this is how the Snowflake Fairies danced for Clare and the prince…" Kagura explained as she made her dead puppets mimic the story for a passive, attentive Kanna. And for once, the pale child seemed to smile…

It was a weak dawn that greeted a sleek, extremely pleased Naraku as he shed a disguise that looked disturbingly like the Drosselmeyer from Rin's picture book…

…And it was left for Kagome to wonder how Naraku knew of the Nutcracker as she soothed away Shippo's troubled nightmares…

#


	18. Trouble

She was two feet of mischief

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

# Trouble #

She was two feet of mischief.

As if it wasn't bad enough that trouble had a tendency to find her, _she_ had a nose for trouble. If he didn't know better, he'd say she had some kitsune in her.

Jaken grumbled as he searched for his missing charge. The universe seemed to delight in confounding him at every turn while Rin with her sweet smile sailed through her life unconcerned. If _he_ were troubled by such consistent misfortune, he would have perished long ago. Yet Rin, for all her unfortunate brushes with death, lived happy and healthy.

Because she had Sesshoumaru-sama's favor.

If _he_ were so blessed, he would probably expire from overwhelming joy. The ignorant child didn't even properly appreciate the honor of having Sesshoumaru-sama's regard. She blindly took it for granted without understanding the _worth_ of the protection he gave her.

Rin's life proved that luck wasn't everything.

#


	19. The Foolish Oni

It was born of a fool man's greed

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

# The Foolish Oni #

It was born of a fool man's greed.

Straight forward and unimaginative in his pursuit of what he thought would make him happy, the young man died young and bitter, clutching to his chest his sole possession: his mother's bone comb, inlaid with mother of pearl.

Haunting an item suited for a lady's hair, one would think it would identify itself as female. Yet it was the strength of the man's crude, cruel ambition that gave it life, and so it was "male" as far as its kind ever was either gender. Lady after lady it decapitated, feeding on the love and lust that surrounded the delicate, sheltered creatures.

And she…she was to be his ultimate prize.

He could _taste_ the caring surrounding the peasant, barefoot little girl as she came close. How easy it was to practically place himself in her hand as she exclaimed happily over her discovery. Silky invisible tendrils crept out to encircle her…

And with a sickening _crack_ the bone comb shattered beneath the long clawed fingers of a taiyoukai.

"Sesshoumaru-sama!" the little girl cried.

"Jaken will buy you a new one," the pale youkai promised as with a flick of his claws he flung the pieces into the grass.

"Yay!" the girl responded, trotting after her protector.

"_Silly little oni,"_ the wind whispered to him as he faded away. _"Shouldn't you have known better than to touch his human?!"_

"_Noo!"_ he wailed as the afterworld reached out to claim him.

#


End file.
